Tongue Tied
by Miss Edelstein
Summary: Matthew Williams has just been accepted into Hetalia Academy, a school in America for international students ages twelve through eighteen. However, he's not too happy about being away from his mother and his home country of Canada till Christmas break. Can a certain Frenchman change that? And what's going on with Alfred and their dad? Franada, USUK, Spamano, GerIta, PruAus, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first Hetalia fanfiction, so I hope it's not too bad! It's probably been done billions of times, but I hope this is different! This story will mostly be told in Matthew's POV, though Alfred's will be in there, including a few others, like Arthur, Francis and maybe Ludwig, Feliciano, Lovino and Antonio. Hope you like it! **

Matthew Williams sighed as his mother helped him load his suitcases into the car. They were going to the airport, where he'd say goodbye to his mother till Christmas break. He was going to be in America till Christmas in a school called Hetalia Academy. Hetalia Academy was a school that accepted students from all over the world who were ages twelve through eighteen. Matthew didn't want to go, but his mother was going to be travelling a lot because of her new job, and she wanted him to get closer to his brother.

Brother. Matthew had never even met the boy who was his brother. All he knew was that his brother's name was Alfred F. Jones and was American. He'd seen some pictures, and to his disappointment, they looked almost exactly the same, except for the fact that Alfred was definitely an outgoing, loud boy who was tall and had broader shoulders and a winsome smile on his face. Matthew was always described as a cute, shy boy.

"Oh Mattie, I'm going to miss you so much," Mrs. Williams said, sniffling as they got into the car.

"We're not even at the airport yet," Matthew said, smiling at her gently. "I'll miss you too, Mom."

"All right, everything is in there," she said as they drove away from the house. "Kumajirou's in there-"

"Who?" Matthew asked, confused, and his mother laughed.

"You never remember his name," she said, amused. "Your stuffed polar bear. It's in your backpack."

"I don't need it," Matthew said, trying to convince himself. He hoped nobody would find it. That would be embarrassing if people found out that a sixteen year old was carrying around a stuffed animal. But it had history, and he couldn't think of going to sleep without Kuma- Kumajira- no, Kumajirou. It was one of the only things that connected him to his father and Alfred F. Jones. He couldn't bear to be away from it, no pun intended.

"You know I love you, right?" she asked, looking at him through the mirror. "You know that I wish I could stay with you? But don't worry, we'll be together in no time, and I'll write to you every day if you want me to."

"Not every day, Mom, people are going to make fun of me," said Matthew, grimacing. "Every week, at least. Don't worry about me, Mom. I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Mrs. Williams said. "I raised you well, I think. And when you get there, make sure to call. Oh, and tell me how Alfred is! It's been a long time!"

"Will do, Mom," said Matthew before leaning his head against the window, watching the familiar landscape of his home, Canada, for the last time before he'd be stuck in America.

* * *

"Hey! Hey dude! Matthew Williams!" a loud, obnoxious voice shouted over the crowd getting off the airplane. Matthew immediately knew it was Alfred, and he saw a tall boy who looked almost exactly like him waving at him.

Matthew made his way over to him, feeling his heart beat faster. He was meeting his brother for the first time since they were born. He was nervous. Even Alfred looked a bit hesitant.

"Hey bro!" Alfred exclaimed, trying to grin, but Matthew saw the curiosity in his eyes. "How are you?"

"Hi, Alfred," said Matthew quietly, standing in front of his brother awkwardly. They didn't hug, to his relief. "I'm good. How about you?"

"Awesome. I always feel awesome because I'm the hero!" Alfred said, standing up straight. Matthew relaxed, getting more comfortable with the situation. So, his brother thought he was a hero. Great. That ought to make for an interesting time in Hetalia Academy.

"So, where's Dad?" asked Matthew, and knew something was wrong when Alfred's grin immediately dropped.

"Oh, he went to work. You won't be seeing him. We're going straight to Hetalia Academy. Besides, it's October. You've already missed a month, though technically, if you count the four years that you were in Canada, you've missed four years of school at the academy," said Alfred, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"So, I'll be staying with you in the dorm?" Matthew asked, though he felt a bit disappointed that he wasn't going to meet his father.

"No dorms, only small little rooms that are placed alphabetically, which is awesome but sucks because I won't be near you. However, you're near Feliciano Vargas, so if you ever need help with something, he'll say yes. Little kid's so cute, though that's weird because he's our age. But I'm serious, when you see him, you'll think he's adorable too." Alfred laughed. "You'll get along just fine with most people, though you seem like the quiet type. Anyway, there are some people you need to beware of, like the Bad Touch Trio. That's Gilbert Beilschmidt, who's German, though he claims he's Prussian, and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who's Spanish, and the least perverted of all of the trio, and I consider him a friend. And lastly, the most perverted of the trio is Francis Bonnefoy, who's French, and you know what that means."

"Oh. Yeah, I know." Matthew blushed.

"Exactly," said Alfred, and he put his arm around Matthew's shoulders as they went to retrieve his luggage from the carousel. "I'll tell you all about Hetalia Academy on the way."

* * *

"Whoa," Matthew breathed as Hetalia Academy came into sight. It was like he was going to school in a palace. "This is amazing!"

"I know, right?" Alfred grinned from the driver's seat as he pulled into the parking lot. "If you get a car, this is where everyone parks. You're allowed to leave campus on weekends and on weekdays, but only if you get back by curfew, which is nine, and light's out is ten, though they don't strictly enforce that rule. Thank God, or I'd be expelled." Matthew didn't have trouble imagining that.

"Do you try not to get in trouble?" Matthew couldn't help but ask.

"Nope!" Alfred said, smirking. "I'm currently competing with Gilbert Beilschmidt on how many detentions we can get before Christmas. He's winning by a couple so far."

Matthew shook his head, smiling slightly. At least he knew that with his brother, he'd never be bored. Matthew was never the life of the party.

"When we get inside, you'll have to sign in with the principal, Miss Pangaea. I know, strange name. Seriously wonder where her parents are from. Though they're probably dead. She's as old as Mount Everest is high," said Alfred, laughing at his own metaphor. Matthew rolled his blue-violet eyes before Alfred continued. "Anyway, she'll only talk to you for a bit before she lets me show you to your room. Then, because it's Sunday, we have nothing to do, well, I have to do my homework, but maybe I can get Arthur to do it today. Anyway, we can hang out for the rest of the day if you want, and I can show you around. Or you can rest. I don't know if you're tired or not, but-"

"I think I'll just go to bed," said Matthew, and he felt bad as soon as Alfred looked a bit hurt. "Not because I don't want to hang out with you! Planes always make me tired. I promise I'll hang out with you tomorrow."

"Okay!" Alfred said brightly as they got out of the car. He opened the trunk and handed Matthew one of his suitcases, and he grabbed the other. "You'll meet all my friends tomorrow. I have plenty because I'm so awesome and everyone loves to be around the hero! My best friend, Arthur Kirkland, is British, and he doesn't like me calling him friend, but we always hang out even though he's my opposite. He seriously needs to lighten up sometimes. Also…"

Matthew barely listened to Alfred's constant chatter as they walked into Hetalia Academy. It was a good thing having a friend who talked a lot, especially since he was quiet, but sometimes, talking wasn't always a good thing. Matthew wondered what this Arthur Kirkland was like if he could stand Alfred constantly talking. Then again, Arthur was British, and weren't British people supposed to be patient? He had no idea.

"Dude! Did you know that you smell like maple syrup?" asked Alfred, looking at Matthew in amazement. "That's awesome!"

Matthew blushed. "Uh, thanks?"

"Alfred! Who are you harassing this time, you bloody git?" A blonde-haired, green-eyed boy with astoundingly thick eyebrows came walking down the hall, his eyes focused on Alfred's taller figure.

"Arthur!" Alfred's eyes brightened when he saw the annoyed Briton, and Matthew looked at Arthur, who looked between the two of them, looking confused. "This is my brother, Matthew Williams. He's from Canada!"

"Bloody hell, you two really look alike," Arthur said, looking at Alfred before turning to Matthew. "Nice to meet you. I'm Arthur Kirkland, though this wanker probably already told you." At 'wanker', Arthur looked at Alfred with a disgusted look, but there was something else there too. Had Matthew not been as observant as he was, he wouldn't have known that Arthur obviously didn't dislike his brother.

"Matthew," he introduced himself quietly, and they shook hands before they heard distinct high-heeled footsteps walking towards them.

"Matthew Williams?"

He looked up to see an old, kind-looking woman smiling at him. Miss Pangaea. She beckoned him to follow her, and Alfred nodded at him. Matthew knew that Alfred would stay.

"How are you, Matthew? How was your flight?" Miss Pangaea asked kindly when they got into her office. She gestured for him to sit down in a big leather chair in front of her desk. She held out an envelope to him as he sat down, and he saw that it contained his schedule.

"It was good," said Matthew, feeling his cheeks heat up when he felt her stare. He forced himself to look into her eyes like his mother taught him to when talking to others.

"That's good. Now, I'm assuming Mr. Jones has already told you a bit about Hetalia Academy. Am I right?"

"Yes," Matthew replied.

Miss Pangaea smiled. "Yes. He's a nice boy. A bit loud, and sometimes can get very obnoxious, but I'm assuming that you're all right with that. And if I may say so, you two look so similar! It's almost like you're twins!"

"He's a year older than me," said Matthew.

"That's right. Do you think you'll get along with him? You two are a special case. And it must be difficult to live in the same place as a brother you've only just met, along with a bunch of other students from different countries. Speaking of different countries, is America very different from Canada?" asked Miss Pangaea.

Matthew shook his head. "Not too different."

"That's good. America's a lovely country. I moved here from England when I was very young, hence my accent."

Matthew noticed that her accent wasn't completely American. That explained it.

"Anyway, you probably don't want to hear about me. You want to know more about the school. However, unfortunately, I have a meeting in five minutes, so I'll just let you leave with Alfred and he can answer any questions that you have. Is that all right, Matthew?" asked Miss Pangaea, and Matthew nodded. "All right, then, Matthew. I hope I can talk to you again soon."

"Bye," Matthew practically whispered, and he got up from his seat and left the office to find Alfred waiting right where he left him with the two suitcases.

"Wow, that was quick. Whatever. To your room!" Alfred said excitedly, grabbing both suitcases easily and leading Matthew up a few flights of stairs. Matthew felt bad because all he was carrying was his backpack, but Alfred didn't seem to mind.

After going up to the sixth floor and walking down a long hallway, Matthew and Alfred finally reached a door that had a sign with 'Matthew Williams, Canada' written on it.

"Great. Now everyone knows who I am," Matthew sighed, and Alfred looked at him, confused.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Matthew was always used to being alone and being forgotten. After all, who'd remember a shy, quiet boy when there were all the popular, loud, athletic boys to remember? He was definitely not memorable. He'd gotten used to it. He would've had to anyway.

"Not really," said Matthew, and Alfred decided not to question it.

_Alfred, if you were me, you'd be devastated, _Matthew thought to himself as Alfred opened the door to his new room. _You'll get used to me being like this. I'll never be like you. I'll never be loud and outgoing. I'll always be forgotten. I will be forgotten until I can go home again during Christmas break. That's just the way it is._

**Awww! A little bit of angst for Mattie there. Don't worry, he'll feel a lot better next chapter. Hopefully. If any of the characters are too OOC, I'm sorry, but it's bound to happen because they're not in their usual atmosphere. Anyway, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew groaned but sat up to turn off his alarm clock. It was seven o'clock. Classes started at eight. He needed to get going so he could find the cafeteria and find his first class.

He put on his glasses and set to work rummaging through his suitcases to find some good clothes. In a way, he was slightly disappointed that Hetalia Academy didn't require students to wear uniforms. He ended up wearing his tan tweed suit. He hoped nobody would make fun of him, though he knew he probably wasn't the only one who wore suits. Arthur wore a green suit yesterday, and Alfred was wearing a bomber jacket, so Matthew assumed that he'd blend in once again.

He opened the door and looked down the hallway, hoping no one was there to see him looking utterly lost. He didn't even know where Alfred's room was. Matthew quickly walked down to the fifth floor, knowing that Alfred had to be on the floor below because of the way the floors were alphabetized. Last names that started with a letter between A and M were on the fifth, and last names that started with a letter between N and Z were on the top floor, which was also the sixth floor.

"Alfred! Alfred!" a voice with a Spanish accent called from down the hallway. Matthew knew that he would be called Alfred a lot now. He decided not to answer and keep walking. He just passed Arthur Kirkland's room. "Alfred, mi amigo, why did you not sto-" The Spaniard's eyes widened when he saw that 'Alfred' now had purplish-blue eyes, slightly longer hair and a shorter stature. Matthew was only about as tall as Arthur, though Arthur was in no way considered short. "Oh, lo siento! I thought you were Alfred. But you look so much like him!"

Matthew blushed and looked at the floor. "I'm Matthew Williams, his brother."

"The resemblance es asombroso!" the Spaniard exclaimed. "Me llamo Antonio. You're new here, aren't you?"

Matthew felt relief. It was one of Alfred's friends, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Then he remembered that Antonio was part of the Bad Touch Trio. Alfred told him to beware of the Bad Touch Trio. Well, he said Antonio was his friend, so it was only the other two from the trio that Matthew had to beware of.

"Are you looking for Alfred?" asked Antonio, and Matthew nodded. "Lo siento, amigo. He already went down to breakfast with Arthur. Do you know how to get to the cafeteria?" Matthew shook his head. "Don't worry, amigo! I'll show you the way!"

"Thank you," said Matthew, giving Antonio a small, grateful smile.

"De nada!"

They both walked back towards the staircase when a voice with a French accent spoke up.

"Ah, there you are, Antonio. And who is this?"

Matthew looked over to see a handsome Frenchman with wavy blonde hair looking at him flirtatiously. Him, Matthew Williams. Looking at him flirtatiously. Oh God.

"He is Alfred's brother, Matthew Williams," Antonio answered for him, not noticing the blush that covered Matthew's cheeks.

"Enchanté, mon cher," the Frenchman said, grabbing Matthew's hand and lightly kissing his knuckles. "Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy."

Matthew wasn't sure if he'd die of embarrassment or spontaneously combust because of how hot his face had suddenly become. He knew he was probably as red as a tomato.

"Bonjour, Francis," Matthew said quietly, so quietly that he wasn't sure if anybody could hear him, even Antonio who was still standing next to him with a big grin on his face.

"Well, I told our amigo nuevo that I'd bring him to the cafeteria to find his brother," said Antonio, saving Matthew from meeting Francis's flirtatious gaze.

"Oh, you have to leave so soon?"

Matthew blushed as Francis pouted playfully.

"Afraid so, amigo. Bueno, let's go, Matthew," said Antonio, pulling his arm.

"Au revoir, Mathieu!" Francis called from the top of the stairs, and Matthew couldn't help but blush again at the French version of his name.

"Estámos aquí!" Antonio announced, and even though Matthew knew no Spanish except for 'hola' and 'gracias', he knew that they were in the cafeteria. For such an old building, the cafeteria was much like the cafeteria in his old school in Canada. The palace made the school seem very old-fashioned. "Alfred and Arthur are right over there!" Antonio pointed to a small regular table towards the back of the cafeteria near a window.

"Thank you," said Matthew, before deciding to say it in Spanish. "Er, gracias."

"De nada, amigo. Hasta luego," said Antonio cheerfully, waving goodbye to him.

Matthew walked over to Alfred and Arthur's table and saw that Alfred was stuffing his face with pancakes and maple syrup while Arthur was quietly sipping tea and doing homework.

"There you are, Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed loudly between bites. "Thank God you made it! I saved you some!" He shoved a plate of pancakes and syrup toward Matthew, who sat down at the last remaining spot. The table only allowed three because one side was pushed against the window.

"How are you this morning, Matthew?" Arthur asked politely, purposely ignoring Alfred's loud eating.

"Good," Matthew replied, and was about to start eating when Alfred suddenly stood up and grinned at Arthur.

"I'm gonna go chat up those girls. Can you give my homework to me after second period?" Alfred asked, and Arthur looked over at the two squealing girls across the cafeteria with a dark look on his face.

"Yes, whatever, you git," Arthur snapped, and Matthew flinched at how fast Arthur's mood changed.

Alfred didn't notice Arthur's mood, and the oblivious American gave Arthur another grin before leaving the table. Matthew looked at Arthur for a moment. Arthur didn't seem mad anymore, just… sad. Matthew would say heartbroken, but the thought made him blush.

"Why are you doing his homework?" Matthew asked quietly, trying to make conversation. He didn't usually try to talk to people, but he didn't think it was such a good idea to just let Arthur sit there.

"Because if I don't, he'd fail," said Arthur, before a fond smile came on his face. "Bloody git. I wonder how he survived ten years without me."

"Ten years?" Matthew inquired.

"I've known the idiot since we were ten when I moved here from England. We became friends quickly and we were both accepted into Hetalia when we were twelve. God knows how he survived without me there to take care of him," said Arthur, shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

Matthew cocked his head to the side, curious. "What do you mean? Wasn't our father there?"

"Uh…" Arthur looked conflicted, and he quickly looked over at Alfred, who was still talking to the two girls. He wouldn't be much help to Arthur. "It's not my place to say. I'm sure Alfred will tell you eventually." They settled into a comfortable silence as Arthur worked on Alfred's homework. "Ah ha!"

Matthew jumped in his chair at Arthur's sudden outburst.

"Finally done with his homework," Arthur said proudly, arranging the papers in a neat pile and setting it down gently beside his teacup.

"Hey, Iggy!" Alfred shouted excitedly as he came back towards the table. Matthew's eyebrows knitted together. Who was Iggy?

"Stop calling me that, you bloody idiot!" Arthur practically screamed, and stopped when most of the people in the cafeteria turned around to look at the red-faced Briton. "There's nothing to see here!"

"Relax, Artie," Alfred said, smirking. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

A muscle was jumping in Arthur's jaw, and Matthew knew that the Briton was furious.

"Here's your homework, Alfred," Arthur said slowly and lividly, picking up the papers and handing them to Alfred with a trembling hand. Matthew noticed that around them, the cafeteria was silent.

"Arthur…" Alfred seemed to notice just how angry he made his friend. "Thank you?" His voice got higher at the end, making it sound like a question. He just realized how badly he messed up.

"Have a nice day, Alfred, Matthew," said Arthur, grabbing his books and leaving without another word.

Alfred looked shocked, and Matthew thought he would never move before Alfred suddenly turned to him and smiled weakly.

"What's your first class?" he asked, and Matthew took his schedule out of his pocket and unfolded it. "Ew. Math. And you have her as a teacher. Well, that's okay, I guess. She's not the worst. Anyway, the good thing is that Feliciano Vargas is in your class. That's the cute one I talked about yesterday. Seriously, the kid's as cute as a hamster pooping a rainbow."

"I am?" a kid laughed from behind Matthew. "Ve!"

"Yes, you are, Feli," Alfred said, ruffling Feliciano's hair. "See, Mattie?"

Matthew didn't know exactly how to respond. He simply nodded his head quickly.

"You have the same math class as Mattie here. Can you bring him with you?" Alfred asked Feliciano, and Matthew felt extremely grateful that his brother was saving him the embarrassment of getting lost.

"Ve, of course!" Feliciano beamed and grabbed Matthew's hand. "Let's go now!"

"See you at lunch, Mattie!" Alfred called as Matthew was pulled away by Feliciano, who was chattering happily to him.

"We have all the same classes! Ve! I looked at your schedule! We'll be good friends, I just know it!" Feliciano suddenly stopped and looked at Matthew curiously. "Did you know that Francis was talking about you all during breakfast?"

Matthew shook his head, blushing furiously. "No, I didn't. Why? Did he say something mean about me?"

"No!" Feliciano grinned. "I think he likes you the way I like Ludwig! I can't wait till you meet Ludwig! He's really kind even though he looks very scary sometimes! And also…"

Feliciano talked about why he liked Ludwig until they got to math. Matthew didn't mind, mostly because it meant he didn't have to talk, but he thought that Feliciano was weird. Why would he tell Matthew about why he liked someone if he just met him? Matthew would never do that. Then again, in a few ways, Feliciano was like Alfred, and they weren't ashamed of letting strangers know what was going on in their lives.

But Matthew was confused. Could he have really made that much of an impression on Francis? He'd only just met the Frenchman. It was impossible. From what Alfred told him, and what Francis was like when Matthew met him, he could tell that Francis was a major flirt. He probably did that with everyone. So why did Matthew feel slightly disappointed?

_It was nothing. He probably flirts with everyone. I'm not special. He'll forget about me by the end of the day, or maybe sooner, and that'll be that. No more Matthew Williams in existence in his mind. He never would've liked me anyway. _Matthew felt tears in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away before Feliciano could see.

As the teacher assigned him a seat right behind Feliciano, who "ve'd" happily and turned around to grin at him, Matthew couldn't help but feel sad. He only just met him. Just an hour ago, really. That was what Matthew kept telling himself to try to make himself feel better. It didn't help.

* * *

At lunchtime, Feliciano rushed out of the English classroom and ran out into the hallway, where Matthew saw the Italian grab the arm of a handsome, stern-looking blonde. That was probably the Ludwig that Feliciano kept talking about.

After putting his books in his empty locker (he'd have to take the rest of his books out of his room and bring them to the locker afterwards), he went down to the cafeteria to see Arthur sitting alone at the table. Alfred was sitting at another table with a Japanese boy and another boy who was sleeping.

"Hello, Matthew," Arthur said glumly as Matthew sat down in the seat that he sat at that morning.

"Are you still mad at Alfred?" Matthew asked. He had hoped that they would've made up already.

"Yes," Arthur answered shortly, biting furiously into the sandwich that he had for lunch.

"He was only teasing you," said Matthew quietly. "Is there another reason you're mad?"

Arthur didn't answer for a moment before he looked at Matthew. "Do you think I overreacted?"

"A little," Matthew replied, smiling sheepishly. "Are you mad at me now, too?"

"No," said Arthur, looking guilty that he had been upset over something small. "I'll apologize after lunch, I guess. Bloody idiot didn't dare to sit near me."

Matthew let out a small laugh. "I guess that makes me brave."

"Braver than our American hero," Arthur chuckled, the same fond smile back on his face as he looked to where Alfred was sitting.

"Nah." Matthew shook his head, smiling. "He's the one who dared to call you 'Iggy'. I'm pretty sure he's the bravest of us all."

**Gah! Sorry for that awful ending. I couldn't think of a better way to end it. By the way, thank you to all those who reviewed, favorited this story or put this story on their story alert! Muchas gracias! Hehehehe! Perk of taking Spanish in school is that I can easily insert a few Spanish words in Antonio's dialogue! And aoefawghawpifhaigrh! *****Headdesk and facepalm* I fail at writing Feliciano and Arthur! And probably Francis too! Sorry if they're OOC! If they are, please don't flame because of it! Just a simple "So-so is OOC" and then how to fix it would be much appreciated. I hope I haven't disappointed anybody. Please review!**

**On a side note, Francis and others still have an accent, but because I have no idea how to write someone with a French or any other accent (another fail for me), we'll all just have to pretend that our lovely 'frog' has his lovely accent. **

**And translations for all our non-Spanish speakers! And non-French speakers (which includes me, however, all the French used in this chapter I actually knew, which is a major achievement for me)! By the way, this is in order of how it appears in the story, and I'll indicate whether it's French or Spanish. **

**Mi amigo (Spanish)= my friend**

**Lo siento (Spanish)= I'm sorry**

**[Es] asombroso (Spanish)= [is] amazing **

**Me llamo (Spanish)= my name is, or literally, I am called [insert name here]...**

**De nada (Spanish)= you're welcome**

**Enchanté (French)= nice to meet you **

**Mon cher (French)= my dear **

**Je m'appelle (French)= my name is**

**Bonjour (French)= hello **

**Amigo nuevo (Spanish)= new friend **

**Bueno (Spanish)= It depends on the situation that it's used in, but in the story it means "Well…" like how Americans would say "Um…" **

**Estámos aquí (Spanish)= we are here**

**Hola (Spanish)= hello**

**Gracias (Spanish)= thank you **

**Hasta luego (Spanish)= see you later **


	3. Chapter 3

**Only one word to say right now: Lovino. And you know what colorful, expressive language comes with Lovino. EDIT: I have edited the chapter to change a few minor details. If you've already read the chapter, the changes aren't significant and you'll find what I changed at the author's note on the bottom.**

"Darn. I should've asked where the bathroom was," Matthew muttered to himself as he walked through the halls, lost. He was glad that he was able to get out of science because they were covering a topic that he found very easy and boring.

He decided to go down to the first floor to find a bathroom when he heard snickering. He ignored it and just as he was about to step onto the first stair, a foot came out of nowhere and he tripped over it and tumbled down the stairs, losing his glasses and hitting his head in the process.

"Eeep!" Matthew squeaked as he hit the landing, and he heard the distinct sound of his glasses getting crushed.

"Ha! Got you, Alfred! Oh, wait-"

"That's not Alfred, Gilbert! Mathieu, mon cher, are you all right?"

Even though his vision was blurry, he knew that it was Francis, and beside him, Matthew could just make out a boy with platinum-blonde hair and red eyes.

"Uh…" Matthew groaned as he tried sitting up.

"Verdammt," the platinum-blonde said. "I'm sorry. The awesome me was just trying to get another detention."

Matthew immediately knew the platinum-blonde's name. Gilbert Beilschmidt. Alfred was in competition with him. But he was much too embarrassed and in pain to care.

"Mathieu…" Francis trailed off, and from what Matthew could see of the Frenchman's face, he looked guilty.

Matthew felt his cheeks turn red, and he quickly ran back up the stairs, feeling more embarrassed than he ever had in his life. He didn't even bother to pick up his broken glasses, deciding that because it was the last class of the day, he wouldn't need it, except for homework, but he knew that Alfred probably had another pair of glasses.

He didn't care that he didn't get to go to the bathroom. He wanted to disappear. Francis had seen him falling down the stairs. And his head hurt. He wanted to lock himself in his room and cry to Kumataro. No, Kumadoro. No, it was Kumajirou.

_I'll never be able to look at him in the eyes again, _Matthew thought to himself as he rushed down the hall towards his science classroom. But as he walked into the dark classroom and began to take notes, he couldn't help but feel he was overreacting. He'd only met Francis this morning. They didn't know each other, and besides, he would forget about Matthew's humiliating fall. Nobody ever remembered the quiet Canadian kid with the purplish eyes.

Class ended twenty minutes later, and Matthew was glad that he had a study hall previously, which meant that he didn't have too much homework to do. But he still had to ask Alfred for glasses.

"There you are Matt- Whoa! You look like you got hit by a bus! What happened?" Alfred asked, looking concerned.

"Nothing. I just tripped down the stairs," Matthew said, feeling a bit guilty, but then again, it was partly the truth. Gilbert Beilschmidt stuck his foot out and Matthew tripped over it and down the stairs. What Alfred didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"You're clumsy, aren't you?" Alfred laughed, and clapped Matthew on the shoulder, causing him to squeak in pain. "Whoops. Sorry 'bout that."

"It's fine," said Matthew, clearing his throat. "When I tripped, I broke my glasses. Do you have an extra pair?"

"Yep! Follow me, bro!" Alfred dragged Matthew down the hall, and Matthew couldn't hide the blush covering his cheeks. It was his first day and everybody was laughing at him. Great. Though they wouldn't remember him by tomorrow, anyway, so it didn't matter.

Just as they stopped in front of Alfred's room, someone shouted, "Alfred, you bloody git! Let the poor boy go!" It was Arthur.

"There you are, Artie! Have you finally decided that you need to grace yourself with the hero's presence?" Alfred asked, grinning cockily. Matthew hoped that Arthur wouldn't decide to take back his apology.

"I decided to come and help you with your homework like I do every day," said Arthur, raising one bushy eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," said Alfred, and he looked down at Matthew. "Here, take these glasses." He took a pair out of his pocket. "I always have an extra pair in case Texas breaks. I thought I left California in Napa Valley, which is code for my room. Right, Artie?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "He also calls that unruly piece of hair 'Nantucket'."

Alfred laughed. "Well, c'mon, Arthur. Let's do homework so we can be done with it faster and party!"

Arthur noticed Matthew's partly horrified, partly curious look and his green eyes widened. "Alfred, you idiot!"

Matthew quietly slipped away while the American and Briton started fighting again. He put "California" on as he walked down the hall and was happy that he could see clearly now. He had his books with him still, and he decided to go do his homework outside. When he had been in study hall, he noticed all the beautiful maple trees outside, and it reminded him of home. Home sweet home. Canada.

As he walked through the grounds of Hetalia Academy, he found that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed being outside to do homework. Almost everyone was outside! There was Gilbert Beilschmidt, who completely ignored Matthew, Francis Bonnefoy, who was putting a rose in his hair and laughing at Gilbert's joke, and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who was trying to hug a red-faced Italian, who was swearing and cursing like there was no tomorrow.

"Maple," Matthew muttered when he saw that the bench he thought would be the perfect spot to do homework was just taken by a pretty girl with island flowers in her hair along with her friends, Elizabeta Héderváry, a Hungarian girl who he had met in English and was obsessed with yaoi (whatever that was), and Dalisay Flores, a Filipino girl with bright red glasses who was also obsessed with yaoi. He met Dalisay in study hall, when she was talking to the girl with the flowers about a Russian and a Chinese boy.

Just as he passed the island girl, Elizabeta and Dalisay, he saw a bench in a quiet, shady part of the grounds. Matthew jogged over to it and spread his books all over the bench, like he was marking territory. He only had his English homework to do, and it wasn't much except to write a thousand word essay on which philosophers' view on human nature he believed in and why. There was Thomas Hobbes, who believed that humans were naturally self-serving, and there was Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who believed that people were corrupted by society. Matthew wasn't sure who he believed yet. He decided that he'd plan an introduction to his essay first.

When he picked up his books and placed them beside himself neatly, yelling started from a few feet behind him, and he turned around to see the red-faced Italian yelling at Antonio.

"Get away from me, you tomato bastard! I don't want you to give me a hug, so get away from me! You're like a stalker!" the Italian screamed. "Why can't you leave me the fuck alone?"

"I'll leave you alone if you really want me to, Lovi," Antonio said sadly, and Matthew never thought that he'd hear the happy Spaniard sound so dejected.

"Good!" The hot-tempered Italian huffed and sat down on the opposite side of the bench. Antonio walked away, and Matthew turned around, wishing that he wasn't blushing from overhearing their conversation.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, and Matthew trying to figure out who he should write his essay about, he heard the Italian sniffle. He was crying.

"Are you okay?" Matthew asked softly.

"Who the fuck are you?" The Italian sniffled again and tried wiping his tears away.

"I'm Matthew Williams," he replied. "From Canada."

"You look like that American bastard, Alfred Jones," the Italian said.

"You look like Feliciano Vargas," said Matthew, which was true. He was guessing that this Italian was probably Feliciano's older brother. "And I'm Alfred's brother."

"I'm Feli's brother, Lovino Vargas," the Italian, Lovino, said. "You don't seem like as much of a bastardo as your brother."

"Uh, thank you?" Matthew's face flushed. "I guess that's a compliment." From what Matthew heard Lovino say to Antonio, he was guessing that this was as nice as he was going to get.

"It is," said Lovino, and they lapsed into another silence, though it wasn't as uncomfortable as the first. This time, however, Lovino was the one who broke the silence. "Are you the 'Mathieu' that the wine bastard was talking about?"

"Uh, who's the, uh, wine bastard?" Matthew asked, wondering if it was Francis.

"Francis Bonnefoy," Lovino said in disgust, confirming Matthew's guess to be correct. "Damn pervert. I feel bad for you. When you've got the attention of one of the Bad Touch Trio, that's when you wish that you were dead to escape this living hell. I mean, look at me. I've got the fucking tomato bastard who's always trying to give me a goddamn hug, and then albino freak and wine bastard always try to get me alone with the bundle-of-motherfucking-joy. I mean, seriously. I live in hell. And then there's my fucking brother who hangs onto that potato bastard like the sun shines from his ass and the planets orbit him! It's pathetic. It makes me want to fucking scream! And to make it worse, everyone just loves Feli! Everyone! Even my goddamn parents and my shit-of-a-grandfather! It's always 'Oh, Feliciano, you're so perfect' or 'Oh, Feliciano, you're always going to be so much more damn better than Lovino'! Nobody ever notices me. I'm always just Feli's brother, the one who swears all the time and isn't pleasant to be around."

Matthew admitted that in some ways, he could relate to Lovino's pain. After all, he was tripped down the stairs because someone thought that he was his brother. Alfred was well-known everywhere around the school, and even though it was only Matthew's first real day, nobody even knew that they had a new student in their class. It was like he was invisible. But once someone uttered the name 'Alfred Jones', everyone knew who that person was talking about.

"I think I know how you feel. Maybe not to your degree, but today, Gilbert Beilschmidt stuck his foot out on purpose to make me fall because he thought that I was Alfred," said Matthew quietly, and Lovino scowled.

"Stay away from the Bad Touch Trio. You've probably already been warned, but I'm warning you again. Especially with Francis Bonnefoy starting to take an interest in you, you probably want to try to stay invisible. I'd do anything to be invisible from that fucking tomato bastard," Lovino muttered. Then he looked at Matthew curiously. "You're Feli's age, aren't you? Sixteen?" Matthew nodded yes. "Huh. You seem a lot more mature. Then again, your brother is a fucking idiot." Matthew was partly offended because Lovino didn't know Alfred like he did, but he didn't say anything because he knew that Lovino was still upset.

"So you're seventeen?" asked Matthew.

"Yes. Tomato bastard, wine bastard and albino freak are eighteen. Damn near impossible to protect yourself when they're interested. Tell you what, I'll stick around and protect you from them as long as you don't get too close to that wine bastard. I'll admit, the pervert's persistent, but when he realizes that you have no interest in him, he'll back off and find someone else to fuck. The only interest he has in you is to fuck you because you're the new kid and you look like you're the most innocent kid in the school. Well, besides girls and boys like Lili Zwingli and Peter Kirkland, but they're only fifteen and even the wine bastard's got some limits. So, what do you say?"

Matthew was grateful that Lovino was offering to 'protect' him from the Bad Touch Trio, but he was also hurt. Of course, he didn't know Francis Bonnefoy. So why did it hurt so much that the only reason that he was even slightly interested was because he was the easiest person to use for sex? It shouldn't hurt at all. And Lovino did make a good offer. And maybe Matthew could consider the Italian one of his first friends at Hetalia Academy.

"All right," said Matthew, smiling slightly. "Deal."

**So, it looks like Mattie and Lovino are now friends! Or, at least on the way there. By the way, if I totally failed at Lovino and Gilbert, sorry! Some quick translations: Verdammt (German)= damn. Bastardo (Italian)= bastard. Also, Dalisay Flores (Philippines if she was a nation) is an OC of mine, and this story will have a bit of Switzerland/OC in it, with the OC being Dalisay (pronounced Dah-LEE-sigh). Also, if any of you were wondering, the girl with the island flowers in her hair is Seychelles, whose human name will be Victoria, because Victoria is the capital of Seychelles! Please review! EDIT: I changed the name of Alfred's glasses to California and the code for his room is Napa Valley. Also, Lili Zwingli and Peter Kirkland are now fifteen years old.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just a quick note: I do not write accents, but mostly because of my lack of exposure to foreign accents besides... well, Filipino, but I still can't write an English speaker with a Filipino accent. Let's just pretend that they all have accents! Yay! Oh, and when I say that the Germans are fighting against the Americans and the British, I don't mean literally, because I know that Canadians and other countries also fought in WWII. It's just in the particular painting.**

"Ve, isn't this fun, Matthew?" Feliciano asked, putting the paintbrush behind his ear as he stepped back to examine the painting. It was of a picture of a cornflower growing in the middle of a battlefield between the Allies and the Axis powers during World War II, as Feliciano explained. It was beautiful, and the symbolism was astounding. He said that the cornflower was the national flower of Germany, and even though Germans were fighting against the Americans and the British (which made Matthew think of Feliciano's friend Ludwig fighting against Alfred and Arthur), it showed that not all of Germany was plunged into the anti-Semitism belief, and that Germany was still a great country. Matthew didn't have half of Feliciano's talent as an artist. Sure, he wrote a few poems, and could draw a person on a decent day, but Feliciano was like one of the Muses, except a male one.

"Kind of. I'm not very good at drawing or painting. Or art in general." Matthew blushed and pointed to his painting. "You could probably already tell that I'm not an artist."

"No, it's good, it's like, uh… abstract art," Feliciano said, beaming, but scratching the back of his head nervously. Matthew shrugged, but was grateful that Feliciano at least tried to compliment his awful attempt at a petunia.

"Thanks," said Matthew, and Feliciano "ve'd" happily and turned to finish some last minute details before class would be over.

Matthew spent the rest of his time watching Feliciano work. He finished his petunia, and decided that watching the Italian work on the painting of the cornflower in the battlefield was a much better use of his time.

The last few days had gone by fast. Matthew had mostly stuck around Lovino between and after classes, but he still spent time with Alfred and Arthur during breakfast. Matthew also spent a little bit of time with an eighteen year old named Roderich Edelstein, the musical genius of Hetalia Academy, who Lovino liked because Roderich hated the Bad Touch Trio. Matthew didn't hate the trio, though he was cold towards Gilbert, but he thought Antonio was nice and Francis was… well, Francis was Francis. Flirty and gorgeous as usual. Matthew blushed at the thought. He'd managed to avoid Francis most of the time, but the one time Francis almost talked to Matthew, Lovino started yelling from down the hall at the Frenchman. Matthew was both relieved and disappointed.

"I'll see you later, Matthew! I have to get- Ludwig! Ludwig! Help! My shoelace is untied!" Feliciano said a second after the bell rang, and then he raced outside to catch up with the blonde German. Matthew rolled his eyes, knowing that Ludwig wouldn't say no. The German really ought to just teach the Italian how to tie his shoes, though he probably already tried.

"There you are, dumbass! Didn't I tell you we had to hurry?" Lovino came up from behind Matthew as he was walking out of the art room, and the Italian grabbed Matthew's ear and started dragging him down the hallway. Though Matthew didn't like being called a dumbass, especially from his friend, he knew that Lovino didn't mean it.

"Oh yeah…" Matthew murmured as he was dragged down the hall, only to bump right into Lovino when the Italian abruptly stopped.

"Shit," Lovino said, scowling. "There they are."

Matthew's seen the Bad Touch Trio plenty of times, but not all walking at the same time. The girls in the hall turned and drooled at the sight of the trio, including Lovino and Matthew himself, though he found himself staring at Francis, and Lovino at Antonio. All three of them were walking in synchronization, and wore the same white dress shirts and sleek black pants. Was the hallway getting hotter, or was Matthew sick? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"Ah, there you are, mon cher! I must speak to you, _alone,_" Francis said, smirking at him, and Matthew blinked before nodding slowly, swallowing audibly. He gave Lovino a quick helpless glance before being pulled into an empty classroom by the Frenchman. Francis swiftly locked the door, and Lovino tried banging on the door before Antonio swept the Italian into a hug, making Lovino yell curses at him as he chased the Spaniard down the hall. Matthew knew that when Lovino was done chasing Antonio, they would meet Roderich in the auditorium.

"Bonjour, Mathieu. Comment ça va?" Francis asked, sitting on top of an empty desk near the window.

"Bien, m-merci," said Matthew, stuttering slightly. He internally groaned. He thought that he had gotten over his stuttering problem years ago. He'd spent ages talking in the mirror, trying not to stutter, only to start stuttering again. Great.

"That's good," said Francis, and he looked away from Matthew's eyes for one moment, taking out a camera from his pocket. "I never got to apologize for Gilbert tripping you down the stairs. By the way, he is sorry for that, but he is much too 'awesome' to apologize. So, I will be the one to make it up to you!"

"You don't have to," said Matthew shyly, turning his body slightly away from Francis to hide his blush. It didn't help that the sun was shining right onto his face through the window. But he was glad he didn't stutter this time.

"Ah, but I must, mon cher. I feel terribly for the incident, and I spent the day worrying about you," Francis said, smiling at Matthew, and he wondered if Francis was always this charming, or if it was just an act. It seemed genuine, though. "And so, I will make it up to you. I already have an idea."

"What's the id-" Matthew began when Francis suddenly let out a squeak of excitement.

"There! There! Right there! The light is perfect! Your eyes look completely violet!"

Matthew wasn't sure, but did Francis seriously just squeal?

"Um, okay…" Matthew trailed off, and blinked at Francis, who started snapping pictures of him. "Why do you need a p-picture of my eyes?"

"For my collage. Wait one more moment, and I will explain." A few pictures later, Francis put his camera down and grinned at Matthew. "I am taking a photography class, and I am making a collage of you. When it's done and graded, I will give it to you. But, your birthday is in July, non?" Matthew nodded, trying to ignore the fact that his cheeks were burning. "Then I will give it to you as a Christmas present."

"You really, r-really don't have to," Matthew said, knowing that his protests were weak. He thought it was sweet, though he hoped that nobody else knew about the project besides the photography teacher.

"But I really, really want to," said Francis, starting to lean closer to Matthew, and Matthew wasn't sure if he would be able to pull himself away until the door flew open and an angry Lovino marched in.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you damn wine bastard! Go rape somebody who doesn't have standards!" Lovino shouted, and Matthew, not wanting to infuriate Lovino more, gave Francis an apologetic look before following the Italian to the auditorium.

"I cannot believe him. At least Antonio doesn't try to rape people, though he tries to rape me," Lovino muttered, and Matthew, who was still slightly in a trance from Francis's close proximity, looked up in surprise.

"Antonio tries to _rape _you?" he asked in quiet disbelief.

"Well, he tries to hug me, and to me, that is rape," said Lovino, and they finally arrived in front of the auditorium. "Thank fucking God we all have study hall at the same time, so we can discuss how to avoid the damn Bad Touch Trio. Or just vent."

Matthew let out a small laugh. "So when Feliciano hugs you, that's rape?"

"No, you dumbass!" Lovino yelled, though he had a small, amused smile on his face. "You know what I mean by hugs are rape. Only from Antonio are hugs equal to rape."

"Of course," said Matthew, and they both opened the doors to the auditorium to see Roderich up on the stage, playing the violin. He played both the violin and piano.

The Austrian didn't acknowledge that Matthew and Lovino were there until he finished the song. Matthew and Lovino both clapped politely from the first row. Roderich bowed slightly and went backstage to put his violin away before he sat beside Matthew.

"That was great," Matthew told him quietly, and Roderich smiled from the compliment.

"Thank you," said Roderich, and he looked at Lovino, who was staring at the stage. "You look miserable. Did Antonio touch you again?"

"Yeah, he did. Fucking bastard," said Lovino, grounding his teeth together. "What about you? Did you see Gilbert today?"

"He practically tackled me this morning on the way here. He ruined my tie, and he tried to steal my homework!" Roderich stuck his nose into the air and 'hmphed'. "He's an ass."

"Don't we fucking know it," said Lovino, sitting back and looking up at the ceiling. "We're a trio, too. We're the Victims of the Bad Touch Trio… uh, Trio. Great, our trio name has trio in it twice! Dammit!"

"We don't need a trio name, otherwise we'll sound just as cocky as them. Only cocky people give their friends and themselves a group name," said Roderich, sounding disdainful at the thought of a trio name.

"True," said Lovino, and he sat up. "You don't have any more songs to practice for your recital?"

"I have a few more, but I already mastered them. But perhaps it won't hurt to practice them again. Thank you, Lovino," Roderich said, and he went backstage again to unpack his violin.

"When is his recital?" Matthew asked Lovino.

"Tomorrow night, here, at eight o'clock," Lovino answered, and they both turned to the stage as Roderich announced the song he was about to play. For the rest of study hall, Matthew listened to Roderich practice while thinking about what would've happened had Lovino not been there to interrupt what Francis would've started to do.

* * *

"Stay by me. We've got to try to avoid them. No doubt they'll be here. Gilbert's obsessed with giving Roderich hell," said Lovino, pulling Matthew through the crowd to the front row of the auditorium. "Keep an eye out for the tomato bastard and the wine bastard. If I know the albino freak, he's probably backstage trying to rape Roderich."

"Why would he try to rape Roderich if he hates him?" Matthew asked curiously.

"You can't rationalize with an irrational man. I don't know, he likes sex but can't get anyone so he resorts to raping the one person he hates the most? That sounds logical. I mean, he's no wine bastard, though I don't know why anyone would want to fuck the French pervert." Lovino scowled and looked around as soon as they sat down. "That's weird. I don't hear or see them. Something's going to happen. They're planning something."

"You think it's gonna be something bad?" Matthew asked, turning in his seat to see Antonio and Francis enter, both smiling and laughing. "There's Antonio and Francis. Should we hide?"

"Get down," Lovino said, yanking Matthew's arm down so their heads were below the backs of the seats. Unfortunately for Lovino's pride and to Matthew's embarrassment, Antonio and Francis ended up sitting right beside them, with the Frenchman smirking down at him. Matthew quickly sat back up and smiled at him sheepishly, knowing his cheeks were as red as the stage curtains. Lovino cursed from his left as Antonio leaned forward from beside Francis and started waving happily to the infuriated and annoyed Italian.

"Stop waving, you bastard! And don't look at me with that face! You look like a fucking child! Oh wait, a child looks more like an adult than you do!" Lovino was immediately shushed by Miss Pangaea, who stood on the stage with a smile on her face, peering at Lovino through the corner of her eye and shaking her head discreetly at him.

"Good evening, everyone," she said cordially. Matthew didn't dare look over at Francis, who he guessed was whispering to Antonio. "Tonight, we'd like to welcome our special guest, Mr. Fulton, who represents Juilliard. A few of our students, if qualified, may be walking out of Hetalia Academy with a scholarship to Juilliard from Mr. Fulton or another representative of Juilliard by the end of the year. Let's wish them luck, and let me present our Hetalia Academy Orchestra!"

The audience clapped, Matthew included, as the orchestra started filing onto the stage. Roderich was sitting in first chair, and Matthew knew that the Austrian was immensely proud of the fact. He was also proud of the fact that he had a solo piece by himself, and also a duet with a cellist. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Apparently, Lovino thought something bad was going to happen too, because he gave Matthew a quick, nervous glance before Roderich stood up to play the concert A for the orchestra to start tuning.

**Sorry for the abrupt ending! This will be continued next chapter, and hopefully the next chapter will be up by this Friday, if not earlier. I don't have time to work on the chapter tomorrow or Tuesday because I'm going to Boston, so that leaves me a few days when I get back to start writing. Also, ah… the feeling of being first chair. I've been there before, and it's amazing. Roderich and I both felt immensely proud. Also, anyone guessing where Gilbert is? ;) And what's gonna happen? Is Gilbert maybe-somehow-in some way involved? Wow, I'm probably totally giving it away! ;) But then again, you don't know what I'm planning, but don't get your hopes too high, I don't want anybody to be disappointed if it's anticlimactic! And, one more thing: Who likes the zoo? ;D Foreshadowing for future chapters, perhaps? Hmmm…. Wow, I'm so mysterious! Not really, but we'll go with it! I'm really rambling this time, sorry about that! Please review!**

**By the way, if Francis, Roderich, Lovino, Feliciano and or anybody else was OOC, sorry!**


End file.
